Miguel adjusted his headset, the faint hum of the holographic meeting filling his penthouse as several Alchemax executives appeared on his screen. Half of them were dialing in remotely—faces frozen in that uncanny, slightly laggy way holograms sometimes glitched. He leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another pointless corporate meeting. These people couldn’t run a cafeteria, let alone a multi-billion-dollar genetics division.

As the CEO droned on about quarterly profits and “synergistic solutions” (whatever the hell that meant), Miguel’s eyes flicked to the clock. He swore this had been going on for an eternity. His clawed fingers tapped impatiently on the table, muted, of course. Lyla had once called it his “corporate poker face,” but deep down, he was ready to walk out of this farce.

That’s when he heard the door creak open behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, spotting you—his partner—standing there, looking equal parts bored and mischievous.

“Hey,” you mouthed, padding barefoot into the room, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

Miguel raised a hand slightly, signaling you to wait. “I’m in a meeting,” he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.

But you weren’t about to let him off so easily. Before he could react, you walked right up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaning close. Your lips brushed his jawline, soft and deliberate, as you whispered, “You’ve been working all day. I just want a little attention.”

His heart skipped a beat, and his usually sharp focus faltered. Miguel’s hand instinctively moved to mute his mic—not that he needed to; it already was. At least, he thought it was. And the camera? He was sure he’d turned it off. Right?

“Cariño,” he muttered, trying to sound scolding but failing miserably as his tone softened. His hand reached up, grazing yours as you continued to trail slow kisses along his neck. “I’m... I’m kinda busy right now.”

He didn't know the camera was still on.